Chewy

I have a riddle for you:

'When is a house empty, even though it's full of people?' She had more names than God Himself.

We should have called her Uhuru—

Freedom was the one thing she loved more than us And finally she's escaped the soft clutches of our love.

In our eagerness and innocence We brought her home too soon To be weaned from her mother,

A frightened little thing No bigger than my fist.

She grew to love us though.

As fiercely as we loved her.

Some people were scared of her

But we'd give anything

For her to warm herself against us.

Last night her little heart burst its bounds And she escaped her life Running free at last through open fields Photographed by death.

This morning when we buried her.

It rained cats and dogs.